


Inkwell

by RottenBoneThief



Category: Till Death Do Us Part (Visual Novel)
Genre: Creepy, Gen, Spooky, can we even call this domestic?, idk - Freeform, idk what the fuck but here's some domestic bullshit with Jack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-12
Updated: 2018-12-12
Packaged: 2019-09-17 01:32:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16965204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RottenBoneThief/pseuds/RottenBoneThief
Summary: You've been having odd nightmare's about your husband, and something about those haunting images has come to your reality. An oddly domestic morning that shows just how Surreal being married to Jack Buchanan can be sometimes. Featuring a Gender Neutral reader, Snakes, and Jack being an odd man in odd clothes. Written to the song Master of Death by Peter Gundry.





	Inkwell

Nightmares always bring surreal scenescapes, ideas and images that you don't truly believe belong to your world. In the dark of the night you see him as you peer out the window of your bedroom. He stands in the center of the small pond out in your yard, his back to you. The water is still and black, reflecting nothing. You press your hand to the glass as you study him, the moonlight illuminating his figure which drips with the darkness. 

Your husband turns to you, his face featureless and unrecognizable, but somehow you know it's him. You know that's Jack. If this man had eyes he'd be staring right into yours.

Without reason, you turn from the window, running down the stairs and through your house. Your feet make no sound as you move quick, pushing open the glass doors to the yard, looking back to the pond. He's still there. His head is no longer tilted to stare up at the window, but faces you head on. You walk to him, stepping through the grass like it's some kind of dance, swaying side to side as you make your way to the pond. When your toes touch the water, it stains them black.

It's thick and fluid and you realize it's a pool of ink at your feet. 

"Jack?" You call out to him and he does nothing but open his mouth far too wide, serpents weaving out from his lips, splashing into the ink. You pull back, watching in horror as the large snakes keep sliding out of him, dropping into the pond one by one. 

The next morning you wake with the sound of hissing holding you paralyzed in your bed. 

\--

"Jack?" It's early in the morning, the sun just rising up, blanketing the sky in soft oranges. There's no echo piano through the house, no sock-on-wood pitter of his feet as he gets ready for work, no sound from the shower. It's quiet. 

You step to the window and see him, much clearer now in the day time, in the real world. Jack stands in the grass, facing the pond at the back of your yard. You feel yourself overcome with some sense of deja vu and follow your path from the night before, step by step through your house and over to the glass doors. 

When they slide open, Jack doesn't turn to you. 

"Dearest, come here a moment." His voice has a quiet to it, the low tone having something about it that always leads you to him for a closer listen. You do as he asks, walking to him, standing at his side. He pulls a finger to his lips as if to silence you, his attention turning back to the water. It's darker than usual. He points to the center and you can see it rippling. 

Frogs and tadpoles aren't normally around until the Spring, and there's never been fish in the water feature. You squint, studying the ripples, watching as they move in rhythm. 

You look back to Jack. 

"What is it?" You wonder how long he's been out here this morning. He's dressed already, the heel of his oxfords sunk somewhat into the dirt, a couple blades of dewey grass stuck to the shoes and his slacks. 

"I don't know." There's a fascination to his tone and he steps closer, starting to kneel down, rolling up the sleeves of his button down. You slink behind him, curious. He leans over the pond, arms slowly sliding into the dark water. 

There's a resistance that's more than surface tension. It looks like he's dipping his hands into the darkness of an inkwell. His arms push into the pond, the black murk up past his elbows. 

"Jack, be careful..." 

"There's something in here..." He's murmuring to himself. You gently rest your hands on his shoulders in some attempt to keep him balanced as his body leans further over the dark water. 

"Ah-- Here." He pauses for a moment, arms slowly pulling up from the black and you watch, anticipation flooding your lungs as you hold your breath, wondering what exactly Jack might have. 

Jack's arms rise up out of the water, the black coil of something wrapped around his wrists, sliding up his forearm. Your eyes go wide as his hands break the surface, gingerly holding the body and neck of a snake. 

"Jack!" Your hands cover your mouth and he stands up tall, turning the reptile in his hands, pulling it's face around to look it in the eyes. You go silent, watching your husband stare down this creature he's pulled from the pond, its body writhing and wrapping along his arms. 

Jack holds the snakes gaze from behind his glasses, tilting his head as the snake does the same, his body moving with the snakes in some mirrored dance. The snake flicks its' tongue and you almost expect Jack to do the same. 

He doesn't. He simply lifts it higher, looking over the scales as they shine in the morning sun. 

"He's venomous. We need to have a professional come out to remove him and whatever else may be living in our pond..." You still can't find your words as Jack sets the snake back into the water as gently as he'd picked it up, the creature unfurling from his arm, slithering back into the blackness of the pond. 

"Come now, Love, I'll call someone before I head to work." Jack wipes his hands on his pants, walking back to where you stand, leaning in to press a kiss into your forehead before making his way back into the house as if nothing has happened. 

You stand staring at the pond, watching the water ripple before becoming still and black, reflecting nothing.


End file.
